


She Never Lied

by Gongjunim_Jay



Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Psychological Instability, major angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gongjunim_Jay/pseuds/Gongjunim_Jay
Summary: Park Jinyoung, a man who had it all—lost it all—when his wife died horrifically. Now he goes to therapy sessions to help cope with the pain. When his therapist suggests an unconventional method of treatment, will he accept?
Relationships: Park Jinyoung (GOT7)/Original Female Character(s)





	She Never Lied

“Mr. Park, how are you feeling today?”

He cleared his throat, eyes shifting around the white walls of the office. Every time he visited, the same family photos and certificates hung mockingly on the wall. Once upon a time, Jinyoung was once successful. He had his degrees, his career, his woman; his heart. Those days belong in another part of his life. A life that no longer existed.

“Mr. Park?”

“I feel. . .” he paused to find the right words, “hollow. Not as empty as usual, but the hole is wider today. It burns around the edges.”

The psychiatrist lowered her head in disappointment. Ms. Kyeong-un was one of the most talented mental health physicians in Changwon City. Her accomplishments were renowned and praised in all of South Korea. But with all her fancy background and text-book knowledge, she simply couldn’t understand the complex young man. 

“Have you been doing your therapy sessions like we’ve talked about?”

“No,” he admitted, “well, yes, at first. My medicine makes my head feel weird, and every time I try to breathe like you showed me how, all I inhale is her perfume. When I go out for walks, I see the pretty cherry blossoms—cherry blossoms were her favorite, you know.”

“Do you still work at the elementary school?”

Jinyoung recalled the prior day’s events. He was supposed to take the kindergarteners out for recess on the playground. But instead of doing that, he led them to the parking lot where cars maneuvered in and out of the blue-lined spaces, tires screeching on the hot asphalt. Children yelling as they came inches from death by the silver bumper of a car’s front.

“No, I was fired.”

“Fired? But why?”

He scratched his chin. “I don’t know why. I was just trying to let them have fun.”

She closed her folder and clasped her hands together. “Mr. Park, I don’t see any improvement in our sessions at all. Your progression has been stagnant for months. It’s time you take initiative.”

Jinyoung didn’t see what else he could do. Sleepless nights led to terrifying hallucinations in the morning. Those hallucinations made him do terrible things in the day. How was he supposed to know that the friendly bunny standing in the parking lot of the school was not real?

“I have an idea,” she announced. “Admittedly, it is a little unconventional and slightly discouraged, but I think it may help your case. Would you like to know what it is?”

He shrugged. She reached under her desk and pulled out a thin, iridescent card.

“I have a friend named Lee Taemin. He takes on special orders at this location. Just tell security your name, and they’ll lead you there. I sent a picture of her so he’d know what she looked like when she was. . .alive.”

“A doll?” Jinyoung chuckled mirthlessly. “And you think one of those things can help me get over my wife? The life, the sunshine of my entire existence?”

“It’s worth a try, Mr. Park.”

Sometimes, Jinyoung seriously wondered about the insanity behind people’s motives. He was crazy. He knew this and knew it well. But this woman, this doctor, was supposed to fix the cloud of despair that was his mentality. And she thought she could accomplish this by a figurine made of plastic and synthetic human flesh. Who was crazier?

The next night he arrived at the building. It was made entirely of glass, a tree in the metaphorical urban jungle that dominated first-world society. Above the gold embellished revolving doors, the name of the owner shimmered in the morning sun.

He told the clerk his name, and she brought him into an elevator and up to the top floor. The long hallway had a clear view of the city, sprawling alive and awake in the rush hour time. All of it was meaningless. None of it meant a thing if he couldn’t have his girl. He used to dream of exploring the whole world. Now he sat on his bed staring at the tv blankly. Nothing had color anymore.

“Mr. Park,” Taemin called, swiveling around in his chair. He wore a dark suit, his hair neatly parted to the side and meticulously groomed. “Kyeong-un told me all about your dilemmas.”

“And you’re wasting your time. Nothing or no one could ever replace my Mina. I don’t even know why,” he sighed. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“You’re here because you want a chance. You want a chance to get rid of the pain that’s been eating away at your heart. Don’t feel bad, Mr. Park. Everyone has their mediums. Whether it be drugs or alcohol—crime or suicide You’re allowed to do whatever is you have to do.”

He pointed at the box by his desk. “Take a look inside. I won’t judge you.”

Jinyoung as he was told. A cold, robotic body with her signature long black hair and glassy brown eyes laid inside. She was even the exact height, the shape of her lips and arch of her brows all a perfect replica of the woman who used to be.

“Do enjoy,” Taemin said. And with that, Jinyoung left the building.

He set the doll down on his bed. For as much as it resembled her, he knew her eyes were not animated. Her breath, her painted smile was fake. The real Mina was six feet underneath the dirt.

Sometime, maybe it was a week or two. Jinyoung revisited the forgotten doll abandoned in her cardboard prison. He lifted her body, cradling her to his chest. 

“My girl! My darling, baby girl! How could I leave you all alone when you’ve been so cold, so lonely? I won’t ever do it again, I swear it!”

His angel was back. His life was back. 

In the mornings, he bathed her in exquisite perfumes, brushing her hair delicately with care to the nurture of every single strand. He made her tea, and together, they drank in the golden rays of the sun.

The thing is—he wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t crazy. When he held her in his arms, she was real. She was smiling, she talked to him, she held his hand. Mina was alive, she wasn’t a doll. And Mina wouldn’t lie to him. She never lied to him. How could she lie about being real?


End file.
